Page 81

ALMOST DIE TOGETHER (IT’S ROMANTIC, OKAY?)

ARABELLA

I’d planned for this moment ever since I first laid eyes on that damned ritual.

Even after Kazimir swore he wouldn’t risk it, the Lifeweave’s instructions kept haunting me.

While he busied himself with war councils and clandestine experiments, I pored over every page of that ancient text, memorizing the runes in the small pauses between our near-disasters.

I even practiced my precision and control in secret, determined to master this… just in case.

Now, the Heirloom of Dominion’s amber glow fluttered like a failing heartbeat. The crack along its side had spread since the last time I’d seen it, and strands of oily black magic seeped from the fissure as though the artifact itself were bleeding.

Kazimir’s pain pounded through our magical entanglement—he was somewhere below, his body near collapse as the so-called heroes unloaded bright, righteous fury on him. Every pulse of his agony lanced across my nerves, but I forced myself to swallow my fear.

“I’m not letting you die for this,” I whispered, though my words felt directed as much at myself as at him.

On the other side of the tower walls, steel clashed and spells crackled, merging into a thunderous roar. Another tremor rocked the building. Dust hung in the air, shaken off the stones. My heart lurched at the surge of fresh pain from the bond—he was suffering badly.

I tore my gaze from the chaotic swirl of magic long enough to grab an uncorked inkwell from what remained of Griffin’s worktable.

My hands trembled as I crouched by the Heirloom’s pedestal, drawing wide circles of runes that curled around the base: symbols for life force, for binding, for sacrifice.

Each line came back to me as if I’d known them all my life.

Seven runes ringed the pedestal in neat arcs. The eighth, largest of all, stretched directly beneath the Heirloom, forcing me to contort awkwardly so I didn’t accidentally brush the artifact itself. Ink smeared across my fingers and stained my training leathers.

Below, I heard a roar that shook the stones. Another quake almost knocked me flat. Kazimir’s fresh agony ripped through the bond, blade-sharp, and I felt my vision tilt dangerously. I bit down on a whimper and steadied my nerve.

No time left.

Pressing both palms to the runes, I began reciting ancient syllables. My voice wavered, but the words flowed from memory. A hush settled around the pedestal, followed by a golden glow that crawled along every swirling line until the entire sequence blazed with brilliant light.

Relief and fear tangled in my chest. My magic recognized these sigils; my heroic blood answered. The Heirloom’s amber aura flickered, out of sync with the golden circle, but I pushed forward, chanting each phrase until my throat felt raw.

On the final word, I slammed my hands onto the runic ring. Power flooded me, a torrent of raw magic scorching every nerve. I gasped, my back arching in pain as a thread of golden light burst from my chest to the crown, tying us in a single, searing cord.

That connection made the Heirloom feel alive in my mind: ancient, battered, and carved hollow by the crack it bore. Through that glowing bond, I sensed the artifact’s wounded state, the edges of the fissure pulsing like an open gash. The entire tower groaned, as if objecting to my interference.

I kept going, channeling my life force through the link. The text had warned this ritual would demand sacrifice. I’d prayed it wouldn’t kill me, but there hadn’t been an option to stop once it began. My strength rushed out in waves, siphoned by the Heirloom.

How much does it need? My vision blurred. It felt endless.

Kazimir’s panic flared through our bond. He realized what I was doing. I sensed the dark swirl of his dominion magic as he fed his strength into me, even though he might be bleeding out down there.

Tears swam in my eyes. “Idiot,” I whispered through a throat gone tight. “Glorious, stubborn idiot.”

I let his dominion power weave with my heroic magic, funneling both into that bright cord of light.

The Heirloom’s amber aura blazed in unison, surging so intensely it almost drowned the entire runic circle in brilliance.

Where the fracture cut the metal, I watched the edges begin to fuse, stitching themselves back together.

Below, the roar grew deafening. The tower rocked on its foundations, beams splintering and stones scraping into fresh rubble.

I felt Kazimir’s magic flicker; he was weak.

I clung to what remained of my control and hurled the entirety of my life force at the artifact.

A final burst of light exploded between the Heirloom and me, wringing out my soul like a soaked rag.

Then—suddenly—the fracture fused, leaving only unmarred metal in its place.

The Heirloom shone, steady at last… but I couldn’t savor the victory. I pitched forward, my forehead smacking softly against the pedestal. Kazimir’s relief washed over me, followed immediately by fresh fear as yet another violent blast rocked the tower’s lower floors, shuddering upward.

I tried to stand, but my legs refused to unbend.

My mind felt hazy, my strength nearly gone.

And it was too late anyway. The tower was caving in.

I flung my arms out in a desperate attempt to find something to keep me from sliding into the yawning void.

The floor tilted. Stone, mortar, and centuries of architecture gave a final, tortured groan.

I had one clear heartbeat in which I understood there’d be nothing to save me. The tower was crashing to oblivion, and I was trapped. I reached out and snatched the newly healed Heirloom, holding it tight against my chest.

The floor dropped from beneath me. A ragged scream caught in my lungs. Through the bond came Kazimir’s unfiltered terror, echoing my own. My world whirled in a storm of dust, golden glare, and collapsing stones. The entanglement between Kazimir and me stretched impossibly thin. But it didn’t break.

I had no strength left to spare. The only thought scratching through my panicked brain was to use the Heirloom. It was the last shred of protection I had.

Clutching it in my trembling fingers, I shoved the gleaming crown onto my head as the tower’s remains swallowed me in a crush of thunder and stone.

Then I fell into the dark.